Change Back
by Flaignhan
Summary: She starts doing what is easy, instead of doing what is right. Sequel to Change. TRHG.
1. Voldemort

**A/N: **This was written after a couple of requests for a sequel, which I had been considering but in a way that was like 'yeah, that'd be nice, but it won't happen'. I'd like to thank Ankoku Dezaia for exchanging PMs and getting me motivated for this and Arsenic Allure who wrote one of the longest and most in depth reviews I have ever received. Although (s)he did advise against a sequel, haha. I'm still not overly sure about it. I think I must have re-written it at least eight times, which I rarely do. I couldn't seem to settle into something I liked, and then I thought I had, wrote eight pages of the bloody thing then woke up this morning and decided I hated it. This is kind of like a micro-novel. It's basically a short prologue, then a longer middle section followed by a short epilogue. It seemed to work best like that. Anyway, read, review, and hopefully, enjoy.

* * *

**Change Back.**

**by Flaignhan.**

* * *

The first time she sees him, she's being held back by Amycus Carrow while Voldemort shoots spell after spell at Harry, who's ducking and diving to avoid the curses.

His red eyes catch her brown ones and he holds her gaze for a moment too long. She looks down, not wanting to make a connection between the monster in front of her who's trying to kill her best friend and Tom Riddle, who she used to talk to for hours on end in the library, who used to make her laugh with his sarcastic remarks and, on some rare occasions, used to stick up for her as well.

After Voldemort sends out a particularly destructive spell, Amycus is shaken and slightly off balance. Hermione takes the opportunity to elbow him in the stomach, making him grunt and double over in pain. She wriggles free and yanks her wand from his grasp, stunning him before he's even had a chance to work out what's happened.

Ron's struggling to free himself from Crabbe or Goyle (she's not sure which one's which) so she casts a stinging hex at Crabbe or Goyle, which is enough to make him let go of Ron, who swiftly turns around and punches his captor in the face. Crabbe or Goyle falls backwards onto the stone wall, cracking his head on it, sending him into unconsciousness. Ron grabs his wand from the fat sweaty fist and wipes it on his robes.

Both Voldemort and Harry have turned around at this point, distracted by the commotion. Harry sprints over to the door, Ron and Hermione following suit. Spells start to rain down on them and Hermione fires off a blasting spell, causing large chunks of stone from the ceiling to shower down onto the floor.

She looks back for just a second when they reach the end of the corridor and she sees him.

He holds her gaze for a moment too long again, just like he used to at dinner times.

* * *

Hermione doesn't know why Bellatrix doesn't just kill her.

She's had enough, and she would really like nothing more than to see a flash of green light and for it all to be over. The pain is excruciating. Bellatrix has clearly perfected the Cruciatus curse and loves to use it at any given moment.

Hermione's wish is granted. Through her eyelids, she sees a brief moment of green illumination, and then the pain is gone. There is a thud, and silence.

Hermione rolls over onto her side and opens her eyes.

Bellatrix is lying on the floor like a rag doll a few feet away from her. Her eyes are open and have an empty glassy look to them, her wand has rolled away, and the fingers of her pale bony hand are slightly curved.

Hermione sits up and sees him, standing by the door.

He sets her wand down on a cabinet by the door of the small room that she's in and she notices a jug of water and an empty glass sitting on the cabinet too.

Hermione doesn't know what to say or do. So she just sits there, while Voldemort stands in the doorway, a mess of a man, but still the man who subtly threatened three bitchy Hufflepuffs all those years ago.

"Look at me." It's almost a hiss, and she shivers. With these words she realises that she's been looking slightly to the left of him, not wanting to look at how much he's changed.

Her eyes move to meet his and she sees a flash of Tom in him. Not much, but slightly. That patient silence, the way he stands, it reminds her of Tom so much.

"You can't bear it, can you." It's not a question, it's a statement.

"Can you change back?"

"Probably."

"Will you?"

He leaves.

* * *


	2. Tom

**Change Back.**

**by Flaignhan.**

* * *

He won't tell her how he does it. She's curious, but she forgets about her curiosity when he kisses her. He's back to being Tom again, just for an hour or so whenever she sees him.

So often, it feels like they're back in fifth year together again. He's sixteen years old and he still answers to the name of Tom. He has those high cheekbones and the neatly parted hair that she loves to get her fingers tangled in. He has lips, and a proper nose, and his eyes are dark, almost black.

Harry and Ron think she goes to the library. She doesn't bother to correct them.

Sometimes he doesn't just fuck her like he used to. Sometimes he takes his time, and she loves it when he does that. It's so much more sensual, and sometimes it almost becomes meaningful. He never used to make eye contact while they had sex, and he never used to kiss her while he fucked her. Kissing always happened before sex, never during, and definitely never afterwards.

He's different this time around, and Hermione puts it down to him being older, even though he doesn't look it.

One evening, when they're laying next to each other, catching their breath before they get back to their separate realities, Tom asks her a question.

"What's it like?"

"What?" she rolls over onto her side to look him in the eye.

"Fucking a mass murderer."

She gets out of bed and gets dressed.

It's easy to separate Tom Riddle from Lord Voldemort. And it's really easy to fuck Tom Riddle without questioning it.

* * *

"Say it," he begs.

"No."

"Say it!"

"_No._"

"For fuck's sake, Hermione, just fucking say it!"

She reaches over his shoulder to the cabinet by the bed and grabs her wand with one hand while the other is digging into the skin of his back, leaving deep marks there but not quite puncturing the skin.

"Silencio!"

He's furious with her and lets her know by digging his fingers into her waist. She cries out in pain and forces his hands away from her, pinning them to the headboard instead.

When she next kisses him he bites down hard on her lip, making it bleed. In retaliation she digs her nails into his wrists as hard as she possibly can and the blood begins to well where she has broken through the skin. He bites her neck hard and she knows there'll be a mark which she'll have to cover up before she leaves.

When he's been given his voice back, he doesn't say a word.

"I can't Tom," she says as they lay next to each other. "I really can't."

"Just say it once."

"Once will turn into once more though, won't it Tom?"

He doesn't reply, and she knows that he knows she is right.

"I don't ask for much Tom. Just leave it."

He doesn't say anything but she knows he won't ask again.

When she gets back to the common room, Ron's eyes widen. "What happened to you?"

"What?" Hermione asks, suddenly worried.

"Your lip!"

Hermione glances over to the mirror and sees that it is swollen and speckled with dry blood. "Oh, that," she replies lazily, "I just sneezed and bit my lip, that's all."

Ron casts a glance towards Harry who has remained silent throughout the conversation. Neither of them look like they believe her but they let the matter rest.

It gets easier to lie to them every time she does it, and she does it a lot.

* * *

The Shrieking Shack has a kind of ragged beauty about it that Hermione is briefly able to appreciate before Tom moves out of the shadows and smirks.

A thin layer of dust has collected since they were last here but with a wave of Hermione's wand, it vanishes. Tom takes her wand from her and places it on an old chest of drawers, next to his own.

By the look in his eyes, Hermione can tell that Tom is going to take his time this evening.

He kisses her softly, teasingly, and Hermione grabs him by his shirt and pulls him closer, desperate to pick up the pace. Tom pulls away from her and tuts quietly.

"Patience is a virtue."

"No it's not," Hermione breathes.

It's when Tom has her pinned against the wall that Hermione remembers her homework. Her mind doesn't usually wander far from Tom in these moments, but she pulls away from him regardless.

"The Definus Spell," she whispers.

Tom looks confused. "What?"

"In the library," she takes a breath, "there's a really good passage on it in a book where it doesn't really belong. We're supposed to be writing an essay on it but I can only find the rubbish definitions, like the one in the Standard Book of Spells."

"It's in Stellarson's Guide to Animal Magic. Merlin knows why, it hardly ever gets used on animals. And check the Transfiguration Today archive. I think Dumbledore wrote a column or two on it."

It's clearly paining Tom to be citing Dumbledore as a decent reference and Hermione smiles.

"Thanks," she says.

"I really am quite offended that you were thinking about homework when you should be thinking about me."

"I'm thinking about you now."

Tom takes the hint.

It doesn't take them long to get back to where they left off, but they barely have any time to enjoy themselves because the door bursts open.

"Hermione! We saw on the Marauder's Map…" Harry trails off, staring at the pair of them, both looking a little worse for wear, still tangled together.

Hermione thanks Merlin that he's walked in before the clothes have come off, even though she's not sure whether that's going to make it any easier to talk her way out of this.

Harry's got his wand pointed at Tom, whose wand flies into his own hand. Hermione's always envied him his wandless magic, and hopes that he'll find time to teach her to do it one day.

"Let her go," Harry says through gritted teeth.

Tom steps aside and away from Hermione, evidently surprising Harry and Ron. "My mistress is free to go when she pleases."

Hermione doesn't say a word, just continues wishing that she were somewhere else.

"Mistress?" Ron says disgustedly.

Evidently this isn't Harry's main concern. "Why d'you look like that?"

"It's how she prefers me," he says with a smirk. "Isn't that right?"

Hermione turns slowly to him. "Yes, my Lord."

Tom's eyes flash with pleasure.

"You've imperiused her." Harry's wand drops a little and as soon as he realises he raises it to shoulder height again.

"I wouldn't do that, would I, Hermione?"

"No, my Lord."

"Take it off her."

Tom smiles at the idea of being given orders by Harry, who, try as he might, would never be able to match Tom's magical skills. Tom moves over to Hermione and whispers in her ear, a hand resting on her upper arm.

"The Riddle House is connected to the floo network. Speak to me once they let you out of their sight. If they ask, you remember nothing." He then whispers a few words that Hermione can't make out, but they are making her drowsy.

Hermione feels herself start to fall over from tiredness, and she feels Tom catch her and move her over to the bed. She is asleep before she falls onto the mattress.

"What have you done to her?"

"Removed the Imperius Curse and modified her memory. She'll be fine, Potter." Tom spares Hermione a glance.

"Why Hermione?" Harry asks in a shaky voice.

"We have a history. You'd best ask her what happened when those Time Turners at the Ministry broke."

"What?"

Tom smirks, turns on the spot, and vanishes.

* * *

When Hermione awakes, several hours later, she finds that she is still in the Shrieking Shack, and that Harry and Ron are sitting either side of her on the bed. There is no light coming through the cracks in the boarded up windows, so Hermione supposes that it is still night time.

"What happened when the Time Turners broke at the Ministry?" Ron asks.

"Ron, leave it, she's just woken up."

"Tom happened," Hermione tells them sleepily, and rolls onto her side then falls back to sleep quite quickly.

* * *

"We sat next to each other in lessons," she tells them, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. It's nearing dawn and they're back in the common room. "We were both clever. We got on well. Who told you what happened?"

"Slughorn," Harry said after a pause. "He let it slip. Sort of."

"How long were you gone for?" Ron asks.

"Just over a year. Then I got spat back out and I was exactly how I was before. Same clothes, same cuts and grazes, same everything, and that fight was still happening, in the Department of Mysteries. It was almost like a dream but it wasn't. Spent the first half of the summer in Hogwarts, with Tom."

"That was after he killed Myrtle and framed Hagrid. You do realise that, don't you?"

"It was easier to be his friend than be his enemy," Hermione tells them weakly. That's the only scrap of truth she tells them about Tom. It _had_ been easier to be his friend rather than his enemy.

It is also easier to play victim to the Imperius Curse and a Memory Modification Charm than it is to tell them the truth.

* * *

It's a week before she's able to escape to the room of requirement and pace up and down before it, asking for a fireplace that's connected to the floo network. She gets her wish and locks the door when she goes in. She grabs a handful of floo powder, throws it in the fire, sticks her head in the grate and clearly says "The Riddle House."

It's a shock when she sees him there, sitting alone by the fire, deep in thought. She had braced herself for seeing him as Voldemort, but Tom was sitting there, his fingertips pressed together with his mouth resting against them.

"Room of Requirement?" he asks.

Hermione nods.

"Get out of the way then."

Hermione can't help but smile as she pulls her head from the fire.

"I got a hundred and forty six per cent on my essay by the way."

"I hate that old fool."

"What?" Hermione asks in confusion.

"He only gave me a hundred and fourteen per cent."

"Well maybe mine was just better," Hermione says, smiling coyly.

"I doubt it," Tom replies in a sulky tone. "Still. He's dead, and I'm not."

"Tom don't."

"It's true. He's dead," Tom says matter-of-factly.

"But don't talk about him like that. He was a great wizard and you know it."

"He wasn't as good as me, clearly."

"Just show him some respect."

Tom ignores her and they say no more on the subject.

It's easy to ignore the things they disagree on and pretend they don't matter.

* * *

She's angry with him. _So_ angry. Tom's broken through every single ward surrounding the castle and is attempting to take control of the school, and get rid of Harry too. She has to duck yet another curse thrown by Rodolphus Lestrange and shoots a stunner at him. He collapses.

She doesn't know how it happens, but Harry manages to disarm him in the Great Hall. He is without a wand, it is lying on the floor twenty feet from him, snapped in half, and wandless magic can only do so much.

Everybody has stopped, Death Eaters, students, teachers, members of the Order. But Hermione runs over towards the two of them. When Voldemort sees her, he waves his hand and he is Tom again. Hermione skids to a halt.

"Look, Potter. Hermione's torn. Should she save the me, or the friend who uses her for her intelligence? The friend who always takes the side of the Weasel in an argument, regardless of who's right and who's wrong."

"Hermione don't listen to him."

"The only thing that you really have to consider, is whether you can stand there and watch me die. I admit Potter finds himself in a lucky position in which he is able to end my life. A position which, I can assure you, he won't find himself in again."

"Hermione, just stand back, all right?"

"No," she whispers.

"Give me your wand, Hermione." Tom makes no attempt to summon the wand from her, just holds his hand out.

"Hermione!"

She turns to look at Harry. "Sorry," she says. She takes two strides forward, grabs Tom by the wrist and turns on the spot with him.

It's easier to run away than it is to make a decision.

* * *


	3. Toulon

**Change Back.**

**by Flaignhan.**

* * *

When they reappear, in the lounge of a small house, Hermione is already crying. She screams and shouts at him, hits him and kicks him. He stands there and takes it, because she makes sure that he knows he deserves it. She has just betrayed her friends for a man who has attacked her school, her friends, and has killed countless people in his lifetime.

When Hermione has no more energy to direct anymore rage at Tom, she falls against him and sobs quietly. After a short while she disappears into the kitchen to make some tea.

When he enters the kitchen she is crying again, two mugs of tea are sitting on the counter, tea bags still in the mugs, milk nowhere in sight.

"There's no milk," she tells him through her tears. She only wants a cup of tea and the fact that there's no milk means that she can't have one. That's what's set her off crying again, because she can't have one of the simplest things in life.

"Are you a witch or not?" Tom takes her wand from the counter and points it at each of the mugs in turn, milk squirting from the wand tip into the tea.

She cries more, feeling stupid and lost and unsure as to whether she's done the right thing or not. Tom pulls out a chair for her at the kitchen table and sets the mugs down onto separate coasters.

"Where are we?" he asks after she has drunk some tea and calmed down slightly.

"Toulon." Her voice is raw for shouting and crying. "South of France. Mum and Dad bought this place a couple of years ago, so they can come out here when they like."

Tom nods.

"You can't carry on," she tells him, "not now. Not after what I've just done for you."

He nods again and looks down at his tea.

"We can go to Paris tomorrow and get you a wand."

"And then what?"

Hermione shrugs.

"Fantastic answer, top marks." The sarcasm drips off his every word.

She smiles, despite the day she's had.

* * *

The bin is overflowing with screwed up bits of parchment. How exactly does one say 'Sorry for rescuing the man who's tried to kill you since you were a year old and has made your life misery, but the only thing is, he's really good in bed' without it sounding like it was the most foolish thing in the world to do?

Tom walks in and out of the kitchen several times and tuts when he sees that she is still writing the letter. He learnt the hard way several hours ago not to say 'who gives a fuck about Saint Potter anyway?'.

She has spoken to Ginny, who has told her she thinks Hermione's treading on thin ice, but Hermione has explained the entire story and Ginny sort of understands. She knows how attractive Tom can be, having experienced his charm herself. Ginny even says that in another universe, where Tom wasn't a murderous power hungry lunatic, they'd be a perfect match, what with them both being complete and utter swots.

In the end, Hermione settles for a half decent letter hoping she's managed to explain, and if not, hoping that Ginny will be able to fill in any gaps. She ties it to the leg of Tom's owl and it flies away immediately, having been waiting on its perch all day for the letter.

After two weeks, she has received no reply, and it's easier to think that the owl got lost than it is to think that her best friends will never forgive her.

After four weeks, however, she awakes one morning to find Hedwig sitting on the kitchen table, a thick roll of parchment tied to her leg, and breathes a sigh of relief.

* * *

**The End.**

* * *

**A/N: **I've changed the ending. I can't explain how much I detested the old one, and a review from Kako definitely motivated me into changing it, because I realised I wasn't the only one who felt it was shite and inappropriate. (Not that Kako said it in such terms, of course, because she's far too nice for that). Didn't want angst, so I came up with something shockingly horrible that seems incredibly OOC and decided that that was better than a harsh reality. Still, I think I've found a happy medium now. I hope i have, anyway.


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